Chapter 323 - You Lost This

"Metal, help me here!"

Grunting with the effort, Dageer and the heavy machine gunner lifted a Dwarf-Spider Droid so Brain and Tech could pull the body of one of his brothers from under it. A quick check revealed there was nothing to do for him.

Covering his face with his hands, Dageer sighed, and got up. That was the worst part of any battle. Not the fear of death, not the lasers flying around him, not the pain of being hit. Worse than all of this was going around the silent battlefield pausing every few steps to check if your brothers really were gone, and then carrying the bodies back. Depending on the proportions of the battle, that could take hours, and even days.

Of course, as a commander, Dageer could choose to stay away from all of this, but the thought never crossed his mind. Or the minds of any clone, for what matters. Their brothers gave their lives by their side, so the least they could do was provide a proper funeral for them.

"Ugh... Over... Over here..."

Dageer didn't know how many trips he had done, entering the battlefield with his hands empty, and leaving carrying a corpse. But he stopped when he heard someone calling him.

Looking around, he found a 501st sergeant laying sideways inside a small crater. Dageer ran towards him while yelling for Three-four, and carefully turned the wounded soldier. One quick glance was enough to tell him that he didn't have much longer.

Two lasers had hit the poor sergeant, one on the left side of his chest, and the other on the stomach. Even without Three-four telling him, Dageer knew that the laser had destroyed the sergeant's lungs. It was a miracle he survived that long.

"I don't have... A chance... Do I... Sir?"

He could lie, and tell the sergeant he would live. But he didn't have a reason to do so. Every clone went into battle knowing they could die.

"No, brother. But many of the clanckers will make you company on the long journey."

"Haha... I can't... Wait to see their... Faces... Cough... My... Blas... Blaster... Please..."

"Here. You did the Republic proud, sergeant."

His brother couldn't hear him anymore. His fingers, which were holding tightly the DC-15S that Dageer gave him, relaxed.

Hell Squad exchanged glances when they saw that Dageer kept kneeling on the ground, completely still. They had kept company to a brother as they left this galaxy many times, and the pain was always immense. Sometimes it was too much, and now was one of those times.

They took a few steps back, and left their commander alone with his thoughts. They knew better than to try and talk to Dageer when he was like that.

His eyes closed, Dageer stood still. He felt like yelling, punching the ground, kicking the droid carcasses, and worse. But he held it all in. He was a commander. If he lost control, what would the men under him think? But, even if he didn't say it out loud, the thoughts were still rummaging through his mind, like an unstoppable hurricane.

He was tired of it all. Of the deaths, the pain, of the nightmares. Of fighting a war he didn't choose. Of following orders. Of watching his brothers die. Of giving everything he had to people that considered clones no more than just a number. He envied his brothers that had the courage of deserting, and starting a new life, instead of believing the empty promises that the Republic made.

Because that's what they were. Promises that could, and most probably would, be easily broken once this war ended. Dageer might be young, but he wasn't stupid. He had experienced more in three years than most people of the galaxy would in their entire lives. He knew that even if they won the war, the Republic would never give up an army as cheap and loyal as the Clone Army.

Those were dangerous thoughts, but Dageer had long noticed a lot of things were wrong with this war. He had the feeling it was all being controlled from the dark, and that they were nothing but paws. Otherwise, why would Jedis - pacifists - become generals? Why would every claim for peace that both Republic and CIS senators made be quickly suffocated? There were many other inconsistencies, and even thinking about them could be considered treason.

For some reason, Chancellor Palpatine's cold smile appeared on his mind. Dageer never liked the chancellor. He behaved like a Sertullian Vine, putting on a nice facade while it waited to strike. More than once he had given secret missions to Hell Squad, ones that even the Jedis couldn't know about. Most of them involved the assassination of key Separatist figures, all leading the peace effort.

But alas, Dageer wasn't brave enough. Good soldiers follow orders, and he was nothing if not a soldier. He didn't have the courage to question his orders, or to abandon the war. Even if that meant watching thousands more of his brothers die before his very own eyes.

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Ragout was searching for his lightsaber when he spotted Hell Squad. He had already talked to them after the battle, and confirmed Cell would recover quickly. He was about to keep on looking, since he knew the clones liked to be alone while cleaning the battlefield, but something about how the unit was looking at Dageer, who was kneeling on the ground a certain distance away, made him worried.

He silently approached Brain, and tapped the clone's shoulder with a questioning look. The grenadier turned around, and Ragout suddenly felt a wave of sadness coming from him.

"What happened?"

"Uff... Nothing, general. Just... We should leave him be."

The Jedi was surprised. He never heard Brain sound so defeated before.

"By the way, sir, you lost this."

The clone had in his hands a short metal stick, with several engravings. Ragout's lightsaber. Hell Squad had found it while combing through the battlefield.

"Thanks."

It was obvious that Brain was trying to change the subject, and make Ragout leave. And, if a member of Hell Squad didn't want Ragout near, than Dageet must be going through something really serious.

As curious and worried as he was, Ragout didn't want to intrude in what clearly was a clone problem. Sending a small wave of Force to calm Brain, he gave Dageer a last glance, and left.

War destroyed more than just lives. It broke people, even soldiers. No one could go to war and remain the same.

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Eventually, Dageer got up. Hell Squad was one thing, since they had seen every side of him multiple times, but he couldn't let the others see the coward him. It would be bad for morale and for Hell Squad's prestige.

Putting on his helmet with unnecessary force, he gestured for Tech and Dab to carry the sergeant's body, and started walking back to his quarters. He couldn't do this anymore, at least today. Tomorrow he would be back to normal, or so he hoped.